


Time vs. Determination

by AndThenTheresThisAsshole



Category: Self Contained Universe, Undertale
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Cussing, Fascism, Genocide Run, Politics, Religion, the political discourse in this is a joke please don't get too ass blasted over it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 03:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20539739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndThenTheresThisAsshole/pseuds/AndThenTheresThisAsshole
Summary: Obnoticus is the Keeper of Time, which means that he is responsible for maintaining the integrity of time and its associated timelines. When a select batch of timelines in a different universe are suddenly deleted, God sends Obnoticus to investigate and eliminate the threat. Unfortunately, this new playing field severely cripples Obnoticus's powers. Can he face down a universe-ending threat of sheer determination when all he has is time on his side?TL;DR: What if Obnoticus was sent to the underground to stop Chara?





	1. Calm Before the Storm

God’s personal office was unspeakably beautiful. Floating atop the highest peak in Heaven, it was surrounded on all sides by nothing but transparent clouds and perpetual sun. On his desk, a solid dark oak of his own design, sat a plaque which read ‘God - Creator of Everything (That Includes You!)’ It was in this location that a battle of absolute wits was currently raging on, a conflict of such magnitude that it threatened to tear apart time, space, and all matter by force of its sheer stupidity alone. 

“No,” Obnoticus said flatly, arms crossed.

“Yes,” replied God.

Obnoticus titled his head slightly forward. 

“No,” said Obnoticus.

”Yes,” replied God smugly. 

Obnoticus titled his head slightly backwards.

”No,” Obnoticus said.

”You really don’t have a choice, old friend” God cheerfully responded. “Oh, and yes.” 

Obnoticus clenched his teeth without moving a muscle, his manic grin as prominent as ever. “What you ask of me is not necessarily impossible, but the risk that you ask of me is unacceptable. The work I have accomplished in this world has proven to be more important than the entirety of your forces combined. Why would I agree to a mission that puts eons of planning and time in jeopardy?”

God was suddenly eating an apple. “Are you forgetting that you are one of my creations too? Besides, I know about the work you’ve “accomplished,” my compadre,” God said, clouds forming into quotation marks above his head as he spoke. “It’s not all that impressive. But this, this mission. Now that would be impressive." Obnoticus opened his mouth to speak, but God immediately cut him off. "Now sure, I'm asking you to leave this universe for another that is completely outside your scope of responsibility, and sure, it doesn’t really affect us in anyway, but something as drastic as this doesn’t usually stay contained to one universe, Obnoticus.” 

“I would be essentially powerless. I’d lose my connection to the timelines. I’d be at a severe disadvantage against any sort of threat, let alone one that can somehow delete entire timelines.” Obnoticus shook his head. “Listen, I'm not your only choice. Take the Prophet for instance. He not as powerful, or smart, or skilled as I am, not many people are. But he is more than capable of eliminating this threat. Why not him instead of me?” 

God put the apple down. “Because I’ve already got you here, and it would take like, two minutes to catch the Prophet up to speed with what I want.” He faked a sigh. “It would just be inefficient. Plus this mission is about time and timelines. It’s right up your alley!” Obnoticus remained silent. God gave out another sigh, but this time it was entirely genuine. “I’m going to, as the kids call it, be real with you. The Prophet can’t be trusted to do anything. In fact, some days I’m not even sure if I made him that way as a joke or something. Remember that one time when I asked him to break Keith’s knees?” 

“I was indeed there, yes.” Obnoticus replied. 

“And he didn’t do it! He couldn’t even break Keith’s knees! Those knees which I, his God, so desperately needed broken, and he couldn’t even do that!” God's face dropped into his hands. “Such an easy task and he couldn’t do it." God let out a long breath. "The Prophet couldn’t find water in an ocean, Obnoticus. He couldn’t find sand in a desert, melted steel in jet fuel. Do you really think I could ever call on him for something this important?”

Obnoticus let his head fall. “I'm sorry God. While I appreciate the recognition, and do agree with you entirely on the Prophet’s outstanding ineptitude, I’m afraid I must still respectfully decline your mission.” God made a face, but Obnoticus pressed on. “I’m sure you have other assets to call on besides the Prophet, he was just an example of one of the infinite options you have at your disposal. You are God after all. Now please, I have much more important things to waste my time on. This is not my responsibility, nor do I want it to be. If it becomes a problem in the future, then we will deal with it when it has warranted my time. I wish you good luck, God.” And with that, Obnoticus got up to leave.

“Huh. And here I was thinking you were a true fascist.”

Obnoticus immediately froze. “What do you mean by that?”

God leant back in his chair, smug grin back in full force as he continued on. “Well I don’t know much, but the person deleting the timelines? I hear he's a pretty huge liberal—”

“How huge?” Obnoticus interrupted.

“What?”

Obnoticus drew in closer. “I said how much of a liberal are they?”

“Well let me put it like this. You know Bernie Sanders? CNN? Casey? Yeah, they’re basically alt-right compared to this.”

“You’re lying,” spat Obnoticus. “Nothing could be that liberal. It’s impossible.” 

“It’s possible, and they are. I should know, I am God.”

Obnoticus was visibly shaking with anger now. He had faced the likes of Casey before, and he knew just how strong the seductive forces of The Left were to the weak. If this mystery individual were truly as empowered by their favorite flavor of far left ideology as God made them out to be, then they'd never stop until they'd spread their filth as far and wide as possible. His heart rate sped up. First, they'd come for his guns, and then his recreational slaves, and then they'd want him to personally pay for their abortions. It would be an absolute nightmare. And his followers, they'd blame him, too! They'd all blame Obnoticus for not standing up and fighting. When the world needed him the most, he would not be remembered as the glorious champion of the correct ideology of Neo-Nihilistic Fascism, but instead as a spineless _centrist_, always quick to let others know that they have the correct opinion. "Both sides are wrong," they say! But he knew better. Obnoticus always knew better.

Obnoticus quickly sat back down in his seat. “This person, who are they?” 

“I don’t know.” God simply replied.

“You are God. You’re omniscient. You know who they are.”

“Oh see, I’m not actually omniscient. I’m just really good at guessing things.” God’s smugness levels were off the chart. “You’re a smart cookie, Obnoticus. You’ll find them. After all who could be better to hunt down an evil liberal like them besides yourself?” 

Obnoticus drew his gun, chambering a round. “Nobody. I’ll take the mission God, but only to snuff out this universal threat to good Christian and Republican families across the universe, not for you. Let's make that very clear.”

“Yeah sure, whatever. Take care however. Just because you're in a different universe doesn't mean you get to go around and kill everyone, as fun as that is. I know that's your typical response to shit like this but it'll mess everything up. Find whatever it is that's deleting these timelines and stop them.” God concluded, standing up from his chair and preparing to depart.

"By any means necessary?" Obnoticus asked. 

"No. By the means at hand, my friend." God said with a smile. 


	2. Extreme Handicap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a severely injured Obnoticus happens upon an unexpected guest during his arrival to the Underground, he must face off against multiple enemies as he makes his way through the puzzle-filled Ruins.

The last thing Obnoticus remembered was falling down an impressively deep hole. Now normally this wouldn't have worried him in the slightest. He was a Keeper of Time after all, appointed by God himself before the universe had even taken its first breath. To pretend that he was afraid of falling down would be ridiculous, almost as ridiculous as saying Disney’s Hercules wasn’t the best movie of all time. His thought process was as follows:

  1. He could teleport to a timeline where the Underground was filled with water. This was the easiest choice; either he could go to a timeline strain further back in time to a point where the landmass responsible for housing the Underground simply didn’t exist yet, assuming that it was a part of some body of water and not another landmass, thus slowly him down; or he could instead go forwards in time and wait for some biblical event to flood the Underground with water. Whether it be from catastrophic climate change causing the world’s oceans to rise or massive rainfall overwhelming the Underground, either way would be an acceptable choice.
  2. Failing that, he could find a timeline strain where the Underground was on an Earth that was located slightly farther away from the sun. This would reduce the gravity affecting his body to a great enough degree that he would simply float down, almost like being on the Moon’s surface. These types of timelines were much harder to find, unfortunately. After all, if the Earth is far enough from the Sun to where the gravity is being affected, then typically the land masses and other continental objects aren’t going to be anywhere near where they’re supposed to be.
  3. He could simply fall straight down as he was and tank the damage. He was extremely resilient and had eaten falls like this before. Why would this one be any different? Even if he fell hard and somehow got hurt, he had a regeneration factor. He could just wait for his injuries to heal. It wasn’t like he was on any sort of time limit or anything. 

These were all excellent ideas and in normal circumstances would have been very effective, but Obnoticus realized far too late that none of them were going to work. He realized this at about the same time as his face crashed full speed into the ground. He stayed that way for a few moments, not willing to accept that he truly was without any of his powers. Yup, that’s what it was. It had nothing to do with the absolutely overwhelming pain that was rushing through his body. In all sincerity, it was his ego that hurt the most. 

He experimentally swished around the strange copper-tasting liquid that was pooling in his mouth, happy to report that all his teeth seemed to be in their proper place. He was also thankful that his human-like physiology gave him the ability to go into shock. Although that meant he was losing a lot of blood, it seemed to be numbing the majority of the pain, for the moment at least. 

With a few sharp movements, he turned himself over, his signature aviators peeling away from his face and sticking to the dirt below. Shattered and bent beyond repair, their orange glow winked out with a final spark. Despite the sharp pain it gave him, Obnoticus groaned in annoyance. He had really liked those shades. 

Obnoticus struggled but eventually forced himself up into a sitting position, checking his various organs and bones from head to toe. Being an expert in literally everything, he only felt a twinge of apathy as he surveyed his broken body, not flinching a single muscle as he ran his blood-stained gloved hands up and down his body. “Fractured left femur, bruised kidneys and ribs, neck, left shoulder, left arm, concussion...” he mumbled, mentally tallying up his various injuries. In total, he counted 25 different things wrong with him, 15 of which would have been fatal to any lesser being. All in all, not a bad start for Obnoticus. It wasn’t enough to make an impression on him or anything, but he regarded the feat with the respect it was owed. His static grin remained despite the circumstances. He had been through far worse than this. 

He removed his red sweater-scarf from around his neck, tearing it into pieces and fashioning it into a makeshift sling for his mangled arm. Normally these sorts of injuries would have healed almost instantly, but it seemed that losing his connection to the Self Contained Timelines wasn’t the only ability he had lost. Obnoticus paid it no mind. Even without his powers, he felt he was still more than capable of accomplishing this mission. 

With his well-being finally out of the way, Obnoticus took a moment to observe his surroundings. He was currently being lit by a blinding light from above; undoubtedly this was the hole that God had spawned him on top of. 

“Thank you for that, God.” Obnoticus said to no one in particular. 

Surrounding him, in the same shower of sunshine Obnoticus found himself in, was a healthy bed of golden flowers. Well, healthy with the exception of the ones he had crushed on the way down. He picked one up and inspected it, noting that it appeared to be some sort of flora in the ranunculus genus. He flicked it away without further incident. 

With a large amount of grunting, Obnoticus dragged himself over to one of the far walls, a trail of dark red blood marking his path. Anyone else would be unnerved by the almost supernatural darkness the walls were cloaked in, but Obnoticus paid it no mind. If there was anything hidden within the dark, they would be smart to fear him, not the other way around. With a held breath, he pulled himself painfully to his feet. Although his legs shook and his body threatened to fail him, he forced himself back up against the wall, waiting patiently for the room to stop spinning before moving another inch. 

He took note of the path off to his right, along with the strange passageway it led into. He mentally recorded the symbol that adorned the top of the passageway, recognizing the craftsmanship of the two pillars that flanked it on either side. Clearly there was some sort of intelligent life down here, and if there was life, that meant there would likely be some... complications with his plans. Obnoticus rubbed his hand over his handgun, which was housed in a holster on his right leg. It was the only item that God had permitted him to bring. 

“See, I could send you with an army of invincible angels, or with a weapon that erases things from existence, but if we send that with you, then we’ll mess with the timeflow and trigger a timeline nexal fractus point!” Obnoticus remembered God saying. 

“You mean a Fractal Nexus Point. I understand the risk, but seeing as how I am already affecting one timeline to save many others, I fail to see how a concept unique to the Self Contained Timelines could--” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look, I’m sending you now with what you have on you.” 

Obnoticus was taken aback. "Why rush this? I believe I am entitled to some supplies. Perhaps an extra magazine or superior American-made weapon could ensure victory?" Obnoticus asked. 

God thought about it for a moment, humming as he did so. He simply grinned as he gave his answer. "I'd love to give you that opportunity, really I would, but I have a thing I have to go do, like right now." 

Obnoticus’s own grin faltered. "God, I hope you don't expect me to complete this with what I have--" 

"Good luck Obnoticus, don't fuck it up bye!" Obnoticus remembered God saying in a rapid-fire motion. He grumbled as he brought himself back to reality. 

“All-powerful my ass." 

He took several steps forward towards the doorway. Although his sweater was saturated with blood and leaving behind a rather gross trail of the stuff, Obnoticus was making substantial progress compared to just moments ago. Unfortunately, this progress came to an immediate halt when he tripped and felt his face meet the floor once again. Obnoticus recovered much more quickly this time, turning around as fast as he could to assess what he had just busted ass over. His heart dropped. Although it was shielded in darkness, he could immediately make out the mass of a person hunched over and splayed out on the ground. He felt the person over, breathing a frustrated sigh as he realized just who he had the misfortune of tripping over. He pushed the figure onto his back, coming face to face with none other than the Prophet of the Tyleristic Religion. 

Obnoticus fell backwards, face palming with both hands as his eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets, and being that he had just fell down about four stories, that wasn't an exaggeration. For what it was worth, the Self Contained Thinker was out cold. On the bright side, that meant he wouldn’t be saying anything fucking stupid for a while, but on the downside, he didn’t seem to be doing any breathing. That wasn’t good at all, breathing was one of the most important functions a Prophet could do. Obnoticus checked his cohort over in the same manner as he did himself earlier, discovering with a great amount of annoyance that he hadn’t sustained anywhere near the same amount of injuries as he did. "Then why the fuck are you knocked out, Thinker?" He took hold of the Prophet’s hand and crushed every bone in it, just to make them even. He then attempted CPR, but it was fruitless. He was not going to wake up for a while it seemed. 

The Keeper of Time got to his feet once more and weighed his options. On one hand, if he wanted to keep the Prophet safe he’d have to carry the fat tub of fuck around with him, as if he wasn't already in the best condition to lug a 200 pound guy for miles. On the other hand, leaving the Prophet here was probably not a good idea. If God had sent him here with him, and of course he had, then he would want him taken care of. If he wanted to get out of this place in one piece after his mission was accomplished, then the Prophet would have to be at the very least alive when he was finished. Obnoticus stomped down with his good foot and crushed the Prophet’s forearm. That would be his payment for the trip he would be going on. He unholstered his weapon with his bad arm, dragging the Prophet by his hoodie with his good arm, making way for the doorway that led to nowhere. 

He came across an empty room. Well, empty with the exception of an overly cheery flower, not too dissimilar to the ones Obnoticus had seen before. It wore an expression of pure elation, but Obnoticus was not fooled for a second. 

“Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower!” It called as Obnoticus approached. “Hmm... You’re new to the Underground, aren’t cha?” Obnoticus dropped the Prophet and swapped his weapon to his good arm, now exceptionally curious as to what exactly he was facing. The flower paused, giving the two a good once over, grimacing. “Oh jeez, not a good trip getting down here, huh? And you look so confused! Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do!” the flower continued. 

Obnoticus tilted his head, red irises burning holes into the creature. “Believe me, small one. I am never confused, for I, Obnoticus, am a master of knowledge, and of all things good and American--” Suddenly, Obnoticus’s soul was pulled out of his chest. 

“See that heart?” Flowey asked, unfazed by Obnoticus’s sudden change in expression. “That is your soul, the very culmination of your being!” 

Obnoticus’s eyes widened in horror. “Impossible. I was sure I didn’t have a soul. Only humans have souls, why would I have one? How _ could _I have one?” 

“Well golly, that sure looks like a soul to me! A nice red one too. See, your soul starts off weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.” The Keeper of Time tried to back up, tried to use his weapon, tried to run, tried to do anything, but it was fruitless. He was stuck, forced to listen to the flower as his body remained motionless. All he could do was control the strange red heart that apparently represented _ him _, up and down, left and right. “What’s LV stand for? Why, Love, of course! You want some Love, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!” 

Obnoticus was not at all relieved by the offer. He was on a mission to eliminate a force that could erase entire timelines, and as far as he could see, this Flowey character fit the bill entirely. “I am not interested in anything you are attempting to give me.” Obnoticus spoke, voice hoarse and weak. He cringed. He wasn’t used to being at such a disadvantage. 

The flower gave a sly expression. “Oh nonsense. Down here, Love is shared through... Little white... “friendliness pellets.” Are you ready?” 

Obnoticus’s eyebrows shot straight up. “No, I am not. In fact if you could let me I could share my own pellets through the application of my gun--” 

“Move around! Get as many as you can!” Exclaimed Flowey. Obnoticus was caught off guard, completely drained of blood and energy, and confused and shocked on top of that. Although he was a pro gamer and could have avoided the pellets on any normal day, this was as far removed from a normal day as he could get. 

The pellets smashed into his soul, sucking all the air out of him. Obnoticus felt like he was sucker punched in the gut. He keeled over, Flowey’s expression warping into one of intense hatred and wicked evil. “You IDIOT. In this world, it’s kill or BE killed. Why would anyone pass up an opportunity like this!?” 

Another ring of pellets surrounded Obnoticus’s soul. 

**“DIE.”**

Flowey laughed maniacally as the pellets closed in, Obnoticus watching in sheer terror. So this is how he would be ended? Defeated in victory? Weakened by eons of being overpowered and untouchable, unable to defeat a single fucking flower? He grit his teeth. At least Casey couldn’t claim it. Obnoticus closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable, accepting his death with honor, the only thing he had left. 

But the inevitable never came. 

Instead a fireball, spawned from somewhere unseen, knocked the flower away. Obnoticus still kept his eyes clamped firmly shut. When he opened them, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. A figure moved into frame, but Obnoticus wasn’t paying attention to them. He was realizing that he finally had control of his extremities again. 

Panic and adrenaline shot through Obnoticus, the brush with Flowey filling him with energy and the desperate need to survive. The creature began to talk, but the Keeper of Time spent no time on them, instead jumping back over to the Self Contained Thinker, quickly holstering his weapon. “What a terrible creature, torturing such a--” 

Before the mystery person could finish, or even make themselves known, Obnoticus had lifted the Prophet up in a fireman’s carry. “What are you doing?” the female asked. Obnoticus took one look at them. When he realized that he was staring at some sort of weird anthropomorphized goat lady, he took off away from her in a full on sprint, dodging around her and escaping through the darkness. “Wait, come back!” they yelled, but Obnoticus was already gone. 

His legs moved with the vigor of a much less injured man, sprinting up a grey set of stairs amongst a very purple-pink atrium. He didn’t look behind him, such an act would’ve been unnecessary and would slow him down. He could already hear the footsteps stomping behind him, catching up at an alarming pace. The goat lady was tall and fast, he didn’t have long before she’d overtake them. 

He came to an abrupt stop, dumping the unconscious Prophet to the ground as he observed a set of metal bars. Next to them were a series of floor switches, obviously a part of some shitty puzzle. If he had the time he could have easily been able to solve it, but time was something he was very much out of. He pushed the Prophet up into the corner and readied himself, pistol drawn and safety off. The footsteps grew closer. As soon as the creature rounded the corner, Obnoticus fired off a round, aimed straight for her head. It missed, but made his intentions clear. The female jumped back in fright. “Please stop! I only want to help you!” she cried. “My name is Toriel, I come here every day looking for humans that have fallen down,” she continued, voice shaking. 

Obnoticus recognized the sincerity and stress in her voice, but refused to take the chance. He needed to put as much distance between this... _ Toriel _and himself as possible. He only had so much ammunition, so he couldn’t count on that to keep the enemy at bay. He smirked, “But 9mm rounds aren’t the only ammunition you have, are they, Obnoticus?” he thought to himself. 

Obnoticus stepped on the plates in a completely random order, and began firing his God-given weapon. “I do not require the assistance of a socialist-bound Liberal, and if you come around the corner you will violate my N.A.P. and I will be forced to shoot you,” he spat. He heard her gasp. Good, fear would stall her for a while. He pulled the lever, but nothing happened. 

“I saw what happened to you, you seem very injured. I can help you, but only if you let me,” Toriel said in response. Obnoticus kept going at the floor tiles, growing more frustrated at the increasing number of failures. Time was running out 

“Helping other people is what Liberals do, and I, Obnoticus do not care for the insane ramblings of someone so obviously hoodwinked by Da Left,” Obnoticus said, pulling the lever yet again to no avail. “If you are affiliated with the flower, which is highly likely considering the proximity you two shared, then you will attempt to trick me and kill me, just like Stalin tricked and killed over 8 gazillion people.” 

Obnoticus could hear the footsteps plodding forward again. Conversing like this at someone required virtually no energy on Obnoticus’s part, but it wasn’t having the effect he was looking for. She was still continuing to press on. “I saw your friend, was he knocked unconscious? Please listen to me, I only want to help, I mean no harm to either of you!”

Obnoticus rolled his eyes, her voice was getting annoying. He stepped on the floor pads and pulled the lever. He breathed a sigh of relief as the metal bars finally gave in and rose up. He grabbed the Prophet by his hoodie, dragging him with his bad arm as he covered the area behind with his Sig Sauer. 

Clearing the next room was easy, if not grating and tedious. Lowering the spikes that blocked his path simply required him to pull some levers, both of which were already labeled. The only actual challenge was hauling the dead weight of the Prophet along with him. 

The process was slow going, but eventually Obnoticus reached the beginning of an exceptionally long hallway. At this point the effects of his adrenaline were waning. His trail of blood had finally dried up, but not because his injuries were healing or anything. No, he was just running out of blood to lose. His head was swimming and his bad arm was hurting beyond anything he had ever felt before, but Obnoticus continued on. He continued dragging the Prophet further and further, despite the tears falling from his eyes. He kept dragging and moving on, because only he could. He kept going, because he wanted to survive. That’s all he could do, and that’s all he could think about; survival. 

He kept his pistol trained down the hall in front of him, waiting for Toriel to make another appearance. He tried to keep his composure, but he knew he was failing. His hand was shaking badly, along with his entire body. It took every ounce of focus for him to keep his eyes open, and although he wanted desperately to close them and drift off to sleep and leave the pain behind, he refused to give in. Not like this, never like this. 

But his body was failing him. He keeled over, pain rushing through him like hot lightning. The tears were coming nonstop now, sans the sniffling and other symptoms of sobbing, clouding his already diminished vision. He tried to drag the Prophet, but his body refused. He let out a shout in frustration, furious that his body was refusing him like this. He tried again, but found that he couldn’t even lift the Prophet anymore. Unbelievable, he had come so far, but his body simply wouldn’t go on. He stood tall, a pathetic mess of determination and blood and tears armed only with a pistol, standing ready to be put out for good.

Finally, after an eternity of waiting, from the far end of the hall, the shadow of Toriel appeared. Obnoticus tried frantically to fire a round, but was shocked to find he was too weak to even pull the trigger. His mouth dropped, his teeth stained red from the blood overflowing in his mouth. 

The fireball that hit him, although not very damaging, was just enough to bring the mighty Obnoticus down. He fell hard onto his back, wheezing, gasping, desperately fighting through the shaking to aim his weapon forward, but it was too late. 

Toriel walked up to the duo, unsure of what to think. Obnoticus looked like he had crawled his way out of Hell, and the Prophet looked straight up dead. She shook her head in disbelief, realizing the two were indeed human. Obnoticus opened his mouth to speak, but only an inaudible whisper made its way out. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Toriel asked. She leaned in close. “Give me liberty, or give me death.” Obnoticus forced out, before losing consciousness. Toriel didn’t know how to process that, only moving to remove the pistol from Obnoticus’s hands. She called out to the surrounding monsters, asking for help from anyone and everybody. 

It smelled like Fascism. 


End file.
